


Doubts

by EachPeachPearPlum



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Love Triangles, Quasi-Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EachPeachPearPlum/pseuds/EachPeachPearPlum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur is in love, Guinevere is not, and Lancelot is the only one who notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a prequel to my AC project for this year. Kind of. Ish. It's the background from which that fic is steadily springing, anyway, so I figured it ought to appear on here before I forget that it isn't and then wonder why no one knows what I'm talking about when I vaguely mention it...

He's always loved her hands: the long elegance of her fingers, the clean curve of her nails, the simple beauty of them. She doesn't have perfectly smooth hands, though; she has worked for her living. Calluses build on her fingers, and the skin on the pads of each of her fingers is worn. Her hands are lived in, worked in. He loves the story her hands tell, of the life she has lived, both before and after he came into it.

Mostly, though, he loves how they look against his skin, the rich warmth of hers against the cooler paleness of his. He loves the contrast, dark against light, the way their fingers lace together, one then the other.

Sometimes, he thinks he'll break when they let go.


	2. Guinevere

He smiles, and the skin around his eyes crinkles, laughter lines ingrained there almost permanently. He likes to laugh, smile, like the continued existence of his world depends on how short the space between one moment of joy and the next is.

He always smiles genuinely, too, never without feeling it. Most people, you have to look at their eyes to know if they mean their smiles or if they're forcing it for appearance's sake, but not him. His are always real.

The rest of the time, though, you need to look carefully. It took years for her to learn to read him when he wasn't smiling, because he tends to keep everything but joy to himself. It's in the little things that she can see how he really feels: the tiny, tight lines that form at the corners of his mouth; the way his eyes widen sometimes, almost imperceptibly; the way he tilts his head slightly to one side or the other; the brow that rises so little and yet so much. The pout, but no one ever tells him that's there.

It took years, but she knows him, knows him better than she knows herself.

She hates it.


	3. Lancelot

Sometimes, he forgets how to breathe. Their fingers knot together as he watches them, and something solid fills his throat. He always holds tighter than she does, his knuckles just a little paler than on his free hand.

He wonders if she's ever left with bruises.

He wonders if it would make this acceptable if she was.


End file.
